The MapleLeaf Summer
by Marina Hydroswim
Summary: The summer before sixth year, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione are sent to hide from Voldemort, living with muggles on a lake in New England. As they begin experience life for real, they understand more about themselves and each other. RHr, maybe HG.
1. Adieu to Mrs Weasley

Disclaimer: Of course, I own nothing.

I was sixteen the summer that I fully realized I was in love with my best friend. It's a good age to be in love, sixteen. We were young and vibrant and full of potential, and the world in which we lived on the brink of war matched the conflicting emotions that raged inside of us. Somehow, being in love helped us to forget that we were living in a difficult time. Somehow it made everything easier, just knowing we'd wake up in the morning to sit down to breakfast with the one person who could make our days a little brighter.

It was simple, the way it happened. So cliché, so standard. It probably wouldn't have occurred if it hadn't been for the war—if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hadn't shipped Harry, Ginny, Ron, and me away to America for the summer. They did it so we'd be safe. After all, we were likely the most sought-after teenagers on Voldemort's hit list. What they didn't realize was that they were doing the four of us a far greater service that simply protecting us from evil. They gave us a chance to get away from what we'd known, an opportunity to finally come to understand ourselves and each other in an unhurried, tranquil sort of setting. And I could not have been more grateful.

But I can't pretend that we weren't angry the day we boarded the plane. We departed practically kicking and screaming.

"Why can't we just use the flue network?" whined Ginny.

"Or even a portkey?" added Ron.

"I've _told _you already," said Mrs. Weasley. "From the moment you left the Headquarters, you were to behave as Muggles. You failed to adhere to that rule on the ride here…" Mrs. Weasley glowered at Ron, who had twice opened up a box of enchanted Bertie Bott's, "but as of now you are all officially _nonmagical_."

To us, her words sounded like a death sentence. We didn't know how we'd survive a summer without being exposed to the magical life we were accustomed to. Nor did we know how we would manage to live with an American family consisting of one Squib who was a friend of Mr. Weasley's, and four muggles who knew nothing of the existence of the wizarding world.

"Mum! How could you possibly send us to live with _muggles_? How do you expect us to be safe with _them_?" Ron was scarlet and absolutely livid.

"Hush, dear, we're in the middle of a skypost!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"Er," Harry muttered to her, "_airport_, Mrs. Weasley."

"Right, of course, Harry, dear. Ginny, Ronald, we're in the middle of an airport, don't make a scene."

"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "How can you expect us not to make a scene when we're about to be placed on a giant hunk of metal that _supposedly_ can fly, which if it does, will take us to a place where none of us have ever been to be with people that none of us have ever met?"

"You'll thank me someday." I doubted that we would. Harry and I were just as furious as the two youngest Weasley children, though we tried to conceal our outrage out of respect for Mrs. Weasley.

"This is it!" I said. "Our flight leaves any minute now." I had been the one to make sure we boarded the correct plane at the correct time, seeing as how I had been the only one to ever fly in the muggle manner.

We all hugged Mrs. Weasley goodbye, and she kissed our cheeks, looking melancholy. "Make sure you write us!" she called behind us as we walked to our gate. Then we were all alone.


	2. The Airplane

Disclaimer: All JKR's.

We looked at each other. I think we were all pretty scared, knowing that we'd soon be facing a world we'd never truly understood. Ginny was the first to break the silence.

"Um… I suppose we should get on the plane now…" She said, gesturing to the line of people behind us waiting to board. I'm sure we didn't look odd to them, as we were all dressed in muggle clothing (Ginny had on a green camisole, Ron a maroon polo shirt, Harry a black t-shirt, and I was wearing a teal polo. We all were in jeans.). However, as normal as we looked, I'm sure the people were irritated by our blocking their entrance.

We traveled through that little tunnel, toting our carry-on bags, and boarded the plane. I was first, followed by Ron, then Harry, while Ginny brought up the rear.

"I think we waited a little too long," I said, looking around at the mostly filled seats. I picked out the only seat I could find whose neighbor seat was unoccupied and sat down in it. Not wanting to end up beside someone he didn't know, Ron sat next to me, leaving Harry and Ginny to fend for themselves. Looking back at them, I saw with a twinge of guilt that Ginny had wound up next to an obese, balding, sweaty man and Harry was seated beside a kid of about seven who appeared to have a runny nose.

I turned to Ron and made a face. "I wish Ginny and Harry weren't going to have to spend all night next to their worst nightmares. I feel kinda bad."

"Yeah," he replied, "That man and that kid make sitting next to you seem pleasant." He grinned, and I knew that he was being sarcastic, but that didn't stop me from elbowing him hard in the ribs. He was my best friend, and he was always picking on me, but I knew that we'd enjoy the flight. I felt more comfortable around him than anyone else; I could say anything around him. Secretly I had hoped for the past week that I would be sitting with him on the airplane.

"Hey," I turned to him, "do you want the window seat? I've been on a plane before and you haven't, so you can sit here if you want. It's really neat; you can see everything below you getting all tiny, and you're up even higher than you go on a… you know, the way you usually fly." (A/N: Anyone seen "The Wedding Singer"?)

"Sure, Hermione," he replied, and we switched spots. "Thanks." I watched him press his face to the window in fascination, even though we had yet to leave the ground. I figured he was marveling at the construction of the wings.

The captain's voice came on over the intercom, making Ron jump. He gave us instructions in case of emergency, then the plane started speeding forward.

"Wait," Ron questioned, "weren't we supposed to be _flying_?"

"We will be soon enough," I replied.

Ron looked a little nervous. When the vehicle finally lifted off the ground, I could see his face turn a little green, and he reached to grab onto the armrest on which my hand was already resting. He was startled to find my hand there and moved his instantly. I laughed at him, breaking any tension that may have resulted from the incident.

"Sooo…what do you think this is going to be like?" I asked him, referring to the summer ahead of us.

"I dunno, but I'm not looking forward to it. I guess we're going to New Hampshire. At least that's what Mum said. So we'll be up in the mountains most likely. And Dad said that Mr. Anderson—that's the squib we're staying with—lives on a lake, so we'll probably go swimming and stuff every day, and don't you think that'll get boring?"

"Not at all…" I said. "My family used to visit a lake house every summer, you know, back before I started at Hogwarts. I used to waterski, jet ski, fish, and swing from a giant rope swing. I absolutely loved it."

"What's water ski?"

"If we're lucky, you'll find out. Even though we're all angry about being sent away, I'm secretly really excited for this trip. I think it'll give me a chance to do the things I used to do when I was a kid. I mean, we haven't really had a chance to be kids since we started school."

"I know…" he said.

"Do you think we missed out on anything?"

"…Maybe."

Ron and I chatted quietly for about three hours. We had been talking about pretty much everything, from our grandparents to our elementary school experiences (I had gone to a muggle school, while Ron had been home schooled in basic math, reading, and writing), from astrology to ice cream flavors. I knew that this was why Ron was my best friend—we could have a heated discussion about everything and anything.

Eventually the plane got dark. It was about midnight in Britain time, and nearly everyone but the two of us and a few businessmen hunched over illuminated laptops had gone to sleep. The man next to Ginny was snoring at an obnoxious volume, and a dozing Harry looked very uncomfortable as the boy with the runny nose, who was fast asleep, was tilting ever closer to his shoulder. All of the little lights above the seats were turned off, ours included. It was a bit too chilly for me, and I was using Ron's sweatshirt as a blanket to keep my legs warm.

"Think maybe we should go to sleep?" Ron asked me.

"No fair! You have the wall to lean on! I can't sleep sitting up!"

"Hey, you offered me the window seat."

"True."

He looked at me. "I guess you can sleep on my shoulder if you want. I'm prepared to be used as a pillow."

I grinned. "Okay."

I took the sweatshirt off of my legs and balled it up to use as a cushion. Ron leaned against the window, and I put the sweatshirt against his arm, scrunched down in the seat and curled up against his shoulder.

He and his sweatshirt smelled like his house. I loved that smell—it reminded me of the times I felt most comfortable with myself.

It took me a little while to fall asleep, though I wasn't sure why, as I was as sleepy as I'd ever been in my life. I knew that Ron was out cold when I could feel his breath deepening. Maybe ten minutes after that, I drifted unsteadily into a light, dreamless sleep.

"Psst…Mione…" I heard Ron's distant voice. "Wake up."

I sat up in the seat, my hair a tangled mess, feeling peaceful and slightly confused.

"We're almost there; the pilot just came on the speaking thingy and said that we're about to land."

It was then that it fully occurred to me in a wave of mild embarrassment that I had spent the past two or three hours, at least, nestled up against my best mate.

"You make a good pillow," I said to him, which eliminated the tension that would have resulted from ignoring the incident.

"Why thank you, it's what I'm best at. I live to serve," was his sarcastic response.

The plane landed around daybreak in Eastern Standard Time. We were informed by the pilot, over the "speaking thingy," as Ron had so articulately dubbed it, that we were in the city of Concord, New Hampshire.

By this time, all passengers had woken up and most were yawning ostentatiously. We filed lazily off the plane into a strange airport, where we met up with Harry and Ginny. Ginny was eyeing me with an odd expression on her face. She suddenly yanked me by the arm over to a nearby terminal vendor to do what appeared to be the innocent examining of a rack of magazines.

"Oh…my…gosh…" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

"What?" I asked, trying to figure out which headline she was referring to.

"What happened?"

"What happened to who?"

"Don't play stupid, Hermione. What happened between you and my brother last night?" She looked positively giddy with excitement.

"Erm…well we rode an airplane and chatted about ice cream flavors and went to sleep and woke up in America…?"

"I _saw_ you, Mione!" she squealed. "On my way back from the WC! You were looking _very _cozy…"

"Oh that…ugh, Ginny… don't think like that! It didn't mean anything! People fall asleep on other peoples' shoulders all the time. No big deal." Without further debate, I dragged her back to where the guys were standing.

"What was that about?" Ron inquired.

"We saw something about that new movie coming out—the one with Orlando Bloom in it—and we just _had _to skim the article. You know, for the pretty pictures." I said this with my very best love struck expression on my face. It seemed like a decent coverup to me.

Ron and Harry rolled there eyes at our girlishness.

"So," Harry began, "we're looking for a Mr. Anderson…"

"Dad says he's about 6'4"" added Ron, "with blackish hair, and he'll be wearing a…a baseball cap? Is that the word for it?"

"Yeah," I said. "Hey, is that him? Over there, holding up the sign." I pointed to a very large, painted piece of cardboard that read, 'Welcome to America, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron!' in bold, colorful, sloppily printed letters. Ginny saw it and looked about ready to die of humiliation. Beneath the sign stood a tall man in a bright shirt with a massive grin on his face.


End file.
